Seekers
by writtenchaos
Summary: I wrote this to try and create a Harry/Draco where both of them stay in character...it's just my favorite two Seekers falling for each other! Harry and Draco realize that they are not only into boys, but they have a crush on their archenemy!
1. Chapter 1

AN: This is my very first fanfic, so pleeeease review!

Harry held his wrist carefully as he walked away from the Quidditch field with a huge grin on his face. His wrist was probably broken, but it was worth it for the thrill of winning. Up in the air was the only time he felt free of all the expectations of The Boy Who Lived. On his broomstick, he was just Harry, Gryffindor Seeker. Like his dad.

Madame Pomfrey mended his wrist in a heartbeat with a foul-tasting potion and a scolding. Harry was still pumped over the victory against Ravenclaw as he headed to the Gryffindor tower from the hospital wing, but when he was almost to the top of one of the many magical staircases, the entire thing turned a quarter to the left. Harry now faced an elaborate tapestry of a nymph with very few clothes feeding grapes to a satyr.

As he stood trying to figure out the quickest way back to the common room, Draco Malfoy burst out from a hidden passageway behind the tapestry. A letter was clenched in his fist, and his eyes, Harry noticed, were red and puffy, almost as if—

"You!" Draco shouted, looking furious. He pulled his wand out as Harry took a step back. "I didn't mean-- I wasn't-- it was--" Harry stammered. The Slytherin started to yell a curse, but he stumbled into Harry and the two fell down the stairs. Harry ended up sprawled on top of Draco at the bottom of the stairs.

Draco's still-teary grey eyes stared into Harry's startled green eyes for a second, before Harry scrambled to his feet. He held a hand out to Draco, who slapped it away. "I don't need help, Potter," he spat. Harry looked at him for a second, then put his hand into his pocket. "Fine," he said coolly, walking away.

Later that night as he lay in bed, Harry's thoughts turned back to his collision with Draco. Had he ever seen Malfoy show any emotion before besides disdain and dislike? It was incredibly shocking to see Draco showing fear, and grief, and doubt rather than his usual smug arrogance. He always acted so superior, just like his father. Maybe it was just a Malfoy thing. Still, in that moment when he saw Draco completely vulnerable, the blonde had seemed almost... attractive. Exhausted by the day, Harry finally fell asleep.

Outside the dungeons before Potions the next day, Harry was leaning against the stone wall. Down the hall, Pansy Parkinson was trying to flirt with Draco. "That essay was so long, it took forever. Don't you think we shouldn't have to do this? I mean," she simpered, "It's not like you need the help, you've always been the best at Potions…" Draco looked away, clearly uninterested, as Pansy brushed up against him. "Of course," she murmured, "you're the best at everything." She snaked her arm around his neck.

Draco straightened up and glared at her. "Quit being such a slut, Pansy." She sulked. "You know, plenty of guys would be begging for me." Draco rolled his eyes. "Well then, go flirt with them," he said. Pansy crossed her arms. "Anyone would think you weren't interested in girls, Malfoy!" she said as she flounced away. To Harry's astonishment, a pale pink crept across Draco's cheeks. Malfoy, queer? Impossible. But still… He would have to ask Seamus.

That evening in the boy's dormitory, Harry asked the gay wizard. Seamus laughed, "Of course he's queer, just lookit the boy! The only reason he hasn't come out of the closet is because his da would probably disown him." He paused, looking thoughtful. "You know, I reckon—" Dean tossed a shoe at him. "Some of us are trying to sleep, shut up!" Harry whispered thanks to Seamus and crawled into bed, with quite a lot on his mind.


	2. Chapter 2

The next Quidditch match was against Slytherin. Gryffindor was losing, 10 to 30, as the two Seekers circled high in the air. Harry was bored, watching Angelina masterfully dodge the Slytherin Chasers to score a goal, when a flash of gold caught his eye. Yes, there it was! Harry dived after the Snitch. Malfoy came hurtling towards the golden ball from the other side of the field. Their broomsticks were less than a foot apart as the two Seekers reached out for the Snitch

Harry glanced at Draco, and their eyes caught for a second. All of a sudden, a Bludger slammed into the Slytherin Seeker, knocking him away from the Snitch. Harry grabbed the ball and grinned at Malfoy as he flew over to meet his teammates on the ground. The people in the stands went wild.

That night, as a party celebrating Gryffindor's win was winding down in the common room, Harry spotted Hermione in an oversize armchair. He went over and offered her a butterbeer, and she looked up from a pile of books to thank him.

Hermione cast a disapproving glance at the party. "I really don't see how people can afford to celebrate now, of all times, with so much schoolwork to be done, it's really quite irresponsible—"Harry interrupted, "Relax, Hermione. It's not like the teachers are going to give you anything but perfect marks, and you really ought to take a break." She held up the book she had been reading. "I am taking a break. I got this book to read in my spare time. Professor McGonagall mentioned Magnus Kleppin class the other day, so I decided to look him up. He started the gay rights movement in the wizarding world." A strange look crept over Harry's face. Hesitantly, he asked, "So…how do most wizards feel about—you know— queer folk?" He looked down, uncomfortable, as Hermione laughed. "'Queer folk'? Really, Harry. It's about the same with wizards as it is with Muggles, except older wizarding families tend to be more uncomfortable with homosexuality, as a general rule. I actually think that Dum— well, never mind." Hermione noticed Harry starting to blush. "What, were you thinking that you might be queer? You never did seem that interested in girls…" Harry was mortified. "Hermione!" he exclaimed. She sighed. "It's not a bad thing, Harry, and you know I'd be perfectly fine with you being gay. YOu'd tell us if you were queer, wouldn't you, Harry?"

A loud bang prevented Harry from responding. The two turned to stare at Fred and George's latest fireworks, which zoomed around the room in the shape of the players on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. The twins stood in the center of a large group of students, shouting and cheering. Hermione scowled disapprovingly, and swept off to the girl's dormitory with her books under her arm.

Harry sat down in the chair Hermione had just left. She was right, he hadn't ever been too interested in girls… and he had thought about guys before, even caught himself checking some bloke out once or twice…but did that make him gay? He had thought all guys had those thoughts, but he supposed not. Ron, certainly, had never mentioned other blokes that way before. Harry recalled one time when Ron had spent an entire quarter hour describing exactly what he wanted in a girl in graphic detail. Harry didn't have any problem being queer, the thought had just never occurred to him that _he_…

Harry smiled suddenly. What would the Dursleys think?


	3. Chapter 3

In the Great Hall the next morning, Seamus was listing all the wizards he would love to shag. Across the table, Ron was struggling between escaping the monologue and getting a full breakfast. In the end, his stomach won, and he was shoveling food into his mouth at an alarming pace when Harry sat down next to him. Partially interested, Harry listened to Seamus as he piled his plate up with food.

"Cedric Diggory, of course; bloody gorgeous even though he's straight as they come… Draco Malfoy, I do fancy a bit of a bad boy… and Geor—"

Ron choked on a mouthful of pumpkin juice. "WHAT? You…you fancy _Malfoy_? That's disgusting, Seamus!"

"C'mon, even you've got to admit that he's quite attractive… go on, you know it's true. I'd shag him every night if I could."

"I don't have to admit anything! I'm not interested in guys, and especially not slimeballs like Malfoy!"

Seamus shrugged and started eating. Ron shook his head and turned to Harry.

"I mean, I don't have a problem with queers in general. It's just, I don't swing that way, and I don't like guys hitting on me, y'know?"

Harry was spared replying by Hermione's arrival.

"Yes, we know you fancy girls; anytime a girl laughs at something you say you can't talk straight for the next hour," she noted shrewdly.

Ron's ears turned pink and he muttered something into his toast. Hermione ignored this and pulled out the book Harry had seen her reading last night. Immersed in it, she didn't even notice Harry's unusual interest in the Slytherin table that morning.

As the three made their way to the first class of the day, they passed Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. Harry stared at the floor.

"Fag," Ron muttered. ("Ron!" Hermione whispered, shocked.)

Malfoy stopped dead.

"What was that, Weasley?" he demanded.

"You heard me. What, are you having a threesome with those two?" Ron nodded at Crabbe and Goyle, who cracked their knuckles.

Malfoy pulled out his wand and took a step closer to Ron. He snarled, "What about you and Potter? Granger seems jealous of what you two have. Or maybe you want some of this?" He pushed his long blond hair off his shoulders. "Too bad, I don't go for blood traitors."

Ron pulled out his wand, but Hermoine grabbed his arm.

"Come find me if you're horny, I might be in a good mood," he laughed as Hermione and Harry dragged Ron off to Transfiguration.

That evening, Harry headed to the library to work on an essay for Professor Binns about goblin rebellions. When he got there, he noticed Malfoy skulking around the Restricted Section, glancing around furtively as if worried he was being followed.

Immediately suspicious, Harry hid behind a nearby bookshelf. He squinted between a couple of dusty old tomes to try and see what Draco was up to. He caught a glimpse of a blonde turning a corner. He stealthily advanced to the next bookshelf, but couldn't see where the Slytherin had gone. He thought regretfully of his dad's cloak, buried at the bottom of his trunk. He pushed two books further apart, straining to see the other boy.

"Petrificus totalus," a voice behind him whispered. Harry's body froze in place. He felt someone turn him around, and to his horror found himself face to face with the very person he had been trying so hard to see.

"Well, well, Potter," Malfoy breathed. "It's time you learned to stay out of things that don't concern you. I haven't forgotten about this morning yet."

Malfoy stood thinking for a moment, then knelt down and pushed Harry's school robes aside. He smirked as he hooked a finger through a belt loop of the pants underneath. Harry started to panic, but the spell wouldn't let him move. Malfoy lazily pulled the pants lower, until Harry's hipbones and a few dark curls were showing. Harry stared helplessly as Draco used his wand to trace a deep green, cursive "DM" onto his left hipbone.

Malfoy stood up. He asked a horrified Harry, "What do you think Weasley will make of that?" He then strode off, leaving Harry still frozen behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

Draco lay in his bed in the Slytherin Tower with his eyes shut. His calm, slow breath escaped through his partially open lips to flutter a silver lock of hair, which surrounded his head to form a halo on the pillow. He clutched a fistful of sheets in a loose fist. Despite his peaceful image, his mind raced. He had become excellent at appearing to be asleep ever since leaving his private room in the expansive Malfoy manor to attend Hogwarts.

How could he have been so stupid? Marking Potter, with his own initials, no less, had been rash and impulsive. Why would he even want to get so close to the boy? There was certainly nothing attractive about him. Draco pictured the other boy. Messy black hair… glasses… skinny… a slightly startled look on his face, he wasn't the brightest bulb in the drawer... Really, his only redeeming quality was his eyes. Such a lush shade of green, like a mysterious forest that you could walk into and never want to leave.

Draco's fist tightened around the sheets. He had had The Boy Who Lived in a Full-Body Bind, completely helpless, and he had- there was no other word for it- monogrammed him. Oh, yeah, Draco, great lesson. Well taught. He had treated the bane of his existence since that first ride on the Hogwarts Express like a new homemaker treats a towel set.

He had done a beautiful job on the initials, though, he told himself with a smirk. The letters were the same color as Harry's eyes, with silver curls looping around the elegant script. It was practically a work of art. So why had he plastered it on his archenemy's hip? He had heard that Muggles paid enormous amounts to do the same thing, except they actually take needles and jab the image into the skin. With Draco's work, the other boy wouldn't even have to worry about infections. What a waste. Although, he mused, it did give off the right message: I can touch you. I could hurt you anytime I wanted, so don't push me. Properly menacing, he decided, and carried off with style.

And it was worth it for the expression on the other boy's face as he had eased down his jeans….

In class over the next few days, Draco noticed with amusement that Potter seemed to be going out of his way to avoid him. But Granger and Weasley weren't paying any extra attention to his strange behavior, so Harry must have been too embarrassed to let on about the library incident. The initials would fade in another day or two, so no lasting harm was done. And yet, Draco was still puzzled by his own actions- as well as Harry's reaction. When Malfoy next saw him, he made a point of bumping into him.

"Watch where you're going," he snarled.

Potter, who hadn't looked Draco in the eyes since the library incident, glanced up. "Or what, you'll give me another tattoo?"

"You did seem to enjoy getting the last one," Malfoy drawled, "but really, too much pleasure isn't good for you." He noticed with satisfaction that the other boy was blushing crimson. Had he been right? The library lighting was rather dim, but he thought he had noticed something unusual about the shape of the other boy's jeans.

A bunch of giggling Hufflepuff girls pushed between them, and he lost sight of Potter. With the hint of a grin of his face, invisible to anyone who wasn't looking for it, Draco headed down the corridor.

Harry leaned against the wall, panting slightly. Had Draco suspected? Had he himself even guessed that, of all people, Draco Malfoy would turn him on? He had put it down to adrenaline in the library, but after their (almost) conversation, there was no mistaking it- he, Harry, fancied Draco Malfoy.

He let out a string of colorful curses before turning on his heel and heading to his next class.


	5. Chapter 5

Easter hols had finally come, bringing with them a burst of green. Seamus and Dean obtained some suspicious Fanged Geranium bites, but refused to say how they got them. Harry spent most of his time playing wizard's chess with Ron in the Gryffindor common room. After Ron managed to checkmate Harry's king using only two pawns, his eighth win of the day, Harry gave up in disgust to go sit by Hermione in front of the fire while Ron put the wizard's chess set back in his trunk upstairs.  
As usual, she had her nose buried in a book. After watching her for a moment, though, Harry noticed something odd- she seemed to be reading backwards.

"Erm...Hermione?" Harry asked tentatively.

Hermione looked up and tucked her hair behind one ear. "Yes?"

"Why are you reading the book backwards?" He felt a bit foolish.

"It's a manga," she replied absentmindedly. At his blank look, she went on. "A Japanese comic. When they translate it into English, the panels are backwards, but they don't flip it because the artists claim it detracts from the story."

Harry could hardly believe his ears. "You're reading a comic book?"

"Well, it's quite good," she replied defensively.

Harry's curiosity got the better of him, and he asked, "What's it about?"

Hermione was slowly turning a delicate rose shade. "There's this killer, and he falls in love with the man who's trying to capture him, and—" Harry was staring at her like she had grown a snout. "Lavender let me borrow it," she added lamely.

"You're a fangirl," he said in disbelief.

Hermione was fully pink by now. "Maybe I am," she snapped. "If you've got a problem, deal with it."

Fred and George glanced over from where the other side of the room, where they were huddling over something that was flashing unusual colors.

"Hermione!" George exclaimed, snatching the book from her hands. He flipped through it, stopping on a page that showed an older guy grabbing a man and pulling him into a king-sized bed. "You're reading yaoi?"

"And we thought textbooks were bad," Fred added mournfully. "Next thing we know, you'll be eating pocky and cosplaying."

Hermione tried to grab the manga back, to no avail. George held it over his head, paging through it. "Really, Hermione. How does this interest you?"  
Fred sniggered. "Just don't get a yaoi paddle."

George looked at him, horrified. "Fred! How could you even think such a thing?" His hand lowered, and Hermione managed to grab her manga back.

Fred shook his head. "Filthy." The two turned around and went back to their corner, where whatever they had been examining was starting to emit a loud whistle and spin.

Hermione settled back onto the couch, blushing madly. She opened her book, and was about to start reading again when she noticed Harry looking nervously at her.

"What?" she snapped, cross. "If it's about that Vampire Rights essay, you can just check it yourself; it's your own fault that you didn't take notes—"

Harry interrupted her. "No, it's not that, it's about... well, do you remember talking about that book?"

All at once, Hermione's entire demeanor changed. "Ooh, Harry, are you gay?"

Harry ducked his head. "Well-- yeah. Er... yeah."

"That's fabulous!" Hermione exclaimed brightly. "Is there someone you fancy?"

Harry blushed. "Well, sort of..." he muttered. He wasn't prepared to face an interrogation.

Hermione shook her head impatiently and shut her book, turning to face Harry. "Come on, you can't 'sort of' fancy someone. Who is it?" she demanded.

But Harry just shook his head, mortified.

Hermione sighed. "All right, will you tell me who you fancy if I tell you about someone who fancies you?"

Harry really didn't want to say, but Hermione would probably find out anyway. At least this way, he would get something in return.

"All right," Harry finally said.

Hermione beamed. "Okay, tell!"

"Ladies first," Harry insisted.

"Fine," Hermione sighed. "Draco Malfoy."

Harry stared at her, disbelieving.

"He's really not that bad," she added defensively. "He can be a bit stuck up, but he's actually not as horrible as everyone makes him out to be."

"Hermione," Harry said flatly, "There is absolutely no way—none at all—that Draco Malfoy fancies me."

It was just then that Ron came back downstairs from the dormitories. "WHAT?" he shouted. "That's—that's impossible! I mean, Harry's not even gay in the first place--" he broke off, glancing at Harry. "You—you aren't, right?"

Harry looked down. "Sorry, mate." Ron just stared at him, completely bowled over.

After a long silence, Harry reluctantly looked up. His mouth was dry. Ron stared at him a moment longer, then swallowed. "All—all right." Harry broke into a relieved grin. "But if you start hitting on me, I swear, I'll douse you in undiluted bubotuber pus," Ron added.

Harry nodded, relieved beyond measure. "Sounds fair," he agreed, and knocked fists with him.

Fred and George had come up behind the three, and at Harry's glance offered him a thumbs up before rounding on Hermione. "What's this about Malfoy and Harry?"

Ron burst out, "She thinks Malfoy _fancies_ Harry!"

George nodded sagely. "We had been wondering what happened to the stick up his ass."

Fred snickered. "He'll be wanting a new one, Harry."

"And you call _me_ filthy?" Hermione said scornfully.

Fred shrugged. "Anyway, congratulations on coming out, Harry. Here, we have a gift for you." He held out his hand, presenting a rainbow wizard's hat. Ron started cracking up, earning him a withering glance from George.

"Er… thanks," Harry said, reluctantly taking the vibrant hat from Fred. He excused himself, quickly escaping to the dormitories before anyone else had a chance to give him anything.

Downstairs, Fred and George laughed over the spell they had placed on the hat.


	6. Chapter 6

Harry woke up the next morning in a strangely…_sticky_ bed. He lay there for a minute, trying to remember what his dream had been about. An image of a blonde boy, completely naked, in a bubble bath came to mind. Harry sat up with a groan and headed into the loo to clean up.

As he stood in front of the mirror, splashing cold water on his face, he caught a glimpse of color out of the corner of his eye. He glanced at the mirror— and froze. Somehow, he had gotten rainbow stripes all down his chest overnight. As Harry stood there, staring in horror at his multicolored abs, Ron walked sleepily in.

He stopped in his tracks. "Bloody hell." Then he started cracking up.

"It's not funny!" Harry protested. "Look at this- I've got a great bloody _rainbow_ across my chest!" Ron only laughed harder. "How I am I supposed to—" Harry gave up.

Ron calmed down enough to say, "You should've known better, taking a 'gift' from Fred and George…" Then a snort escaped and Ron started sniggering again.

"I'll kill them," Harry cried, indignant.

Harry only paused to grab a slightly thicker-than-usual shirt he threw on before running down to the Great Hall. He caught a glimpse of two redheads disappearing under a cloud of green smoke as he entered the hall. "Oh, no you don't," Harry muttered, dashing over to the end of the Gryffindor breakfast table. A second later, the twins tumbled out from under the tablecloth. They looked up at Harry standing over them, arms crossed, and traded a glance.

Fred grinned. "Mornin', Harry! Lovely day, don't you think?"

Harry pulled his wand out of his pocket and pointed it at the two. "Take it off. _Now._"

Seamus appeared next to Harry. "Take what off? Ooh, did you get an ink, Harry? Where?"

George laughed. "Yeah, Harry, show it _proudly_."

Seamus leaned in closer to Harry. "Go on, Harry, I want to see this. Is it on your chest? Or… maybe lower?"

Harry froze, petrified. He glanced around the Great Hall desperately, trying to find some way to escape this awkward situation. Across the room, he caught sight of Draco Malfoy, staring right at him and looking as if he had had Polyjuice Potion forced down his throat. Their eyes locked for a fraction of a second, before Draco quickly stood up and strode from the Hall.

Without stopping to think, Harry ran after him. "Malfoy! Hey—Malfoy!" he called, but the Slytherin was too far away to hear.

Harry finally caught up with him on a bench by the lake. Harry looked over the other boy. Draco's usually perfect pale blonde hair wasn't combed, and his robe was wrinkled. His head was in his hands, muffling his voice.

"Go _away_, Potter. Don't make me hex you."

When Harry didn't respond, Draco raised his head, revealing dark purple bags under his eyes. It looked as if he hadn't slept in several days. Harry was shocked.

"Just go away," Draco whispered.

Harry shook his head resolutely. "Not until you tell me what's wrong."

Malfoy stood up, glaring. "Since when do you give a _shit_ about what's wrong with me? I'm not going to start kissing your feet like Creevey because you decide that you can fix all my problems. Mind your own business, Potter! I don't want your help!" he spat.

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came. Draco might as well have punched him in the stomach. Harry looked at him, silently pleading him to take it back, to say that it was all a lie, an act. _Please,_ Harry wanted to say. _I'm so confused. Help me._

Draco stared at Harry for a moment. When he stayed silent, Draco turned and strode away.

Harry found his voice. "Wait!" he shouted, hating the pleading note in his voice. He ran to catch up to Malfoy and grabbed his sleeve.

Draco turned, furious, and yanked out his wand. "Relashio!" he shouted. Red sparks shot out of the end of his wand, and Harry was forced to let go of Draco's robe to repel the attack. Bewildered, Harry watched Draco run back into the castle.


	7. Chapter 7

a/n: I know. There really is no excuse for leaving them hanging like that. I'll go stand in a corner and be a loser now. But...hey! Done! =D

Hermione ran outside after Harry. By the time she caught up to him, Draco had already disappeared into the castle and Harry was sitting on a bench by the lake, morosely kicking stones into the water.

"Harry!" she gasped, trying to catch her breath. "Harry, I'm so… I'm so sorry, it's all my fault, I never should have—"

"It's not your fault, Hermione," Harry interrupted. "Running after him was stupid, I don't know what I was thinking."

Hermione buried her head in her hands. "No, Harry, it is; I cast a charm to loosen your inhibitions! I'm so sorry, you just looked so uncomfortable around Fred and George—but I never thought Draco-!"

Harry stared at her, numb. "So, that's why…"

Hermione nodded.

"But that doesn't explain why he was so, er, panicky," he finished.

Hermionie bit her lip. "Harry, I think you should go after him. You could use your dad's old cloak and the Marauders' Map, and we don't have classes until after lunch today so you wouldn't be missing anything.

Harry glanced at her. "Are you sure?'

"Well, no, but I still think you should," Hermione answered.

Harry took a deep breath. "Alright, then."  
***

Hidden safely under the Invisibility Cloak, Harry followed the Marauders' Map to where the dot labeled Draco Malfoy sat in an empty classroom. Opening the door, Harry slipped inside and took off the cloak.

Draco started. "Potter, what in Merin's name is your problem? Why do you insist on following me around, can't you leave me alone?"

Harry just stood there, silent. Draco stood up and walked over to him. Leaning in, he whispered, "Harry, what do you want from me?"

"I… I don't know," Harry swallowed, and his eyes closed behind his glasses.

A second passed, and Harry's eyes flew back open as he felt a pull on his tie and pair of lips press against his own. Draco pulled back and stared at him. "Did you want that?"

Harry couldn't look away from his grey gaze. "Yes", he breathed.

Draco grinned and grabbed his hand. "Put on that cloak," he ordered. "We're going to the Room of Requirement."  
***

_A room… we really could really use a bedroom right now…we need to get a room…_

There, in front of the two boys, a door had appeared. Draco pulled Harry through, and slammed the door behind him as he started pulling off his robe. Harry just stood in front of him, slightly stunned at how quickly things were happening, until Draco realized and pulled him in for a long, slow kiss. When Draco opened his mouth and lightly licked the other boy's lips, Harry let out a loud moan and started undressing. Robes, ties, vests, shirts, shoes, socks, and pants fell onto the ground, until finally the only things separating the boys were a pair of boxers, a pair of briefs, and a pair of glasses.

"Here," Draco breathed, taking off Harry's glasses and gently laying them on the conveniently located nightstand. Harry gasped quietly, staring at the Draco-shaped blur, not quite sure what to do next. Draco whispered, "Now take those off. I want to see all of you."

Harry swallowed but complied, bending down and slowly pulling off his tighty-whiteys. He found himself relieved to not be able to Draco's expression, fearing repulsion, but when the moment stretched on he started to get nervous.

Harry felt himself being pushed back onto the enormous bed that took up the majority of the room, and when all he felt was smooth heat, he realized that Draco must have already taken off his black silk boxers. He ran his hands up and down over the porcelain skin, still amazed at being able to actually touch this beautiful boy. He shivered, "Draco?"

Draco pulled up from where he had been exploring Harry's neck with his lips. "Yes?"

"Draco, I don't…I don't know what to do", Harry admitted.

The Slytherin shut him up with a kiss, and then disappeared off the bed. "Draco?" Harry called out, alarmed.

A second later, Harry felt him come back. "This rooms is well-stocked," he heard the Slytherin muse, fiddling with something he couldn't see. Harry leaned his head back against the bed, only to jolt upright when he felt something cold stroke down his dick, over his balls, and finally press against his arse.

He gasped when the first finger slipped inside of him, the feeling completely foreign.

"You have to relax," Draco instructed before adding a second finger in.

Harry moaned as Draco's fingers scissored inside of him, but fell silent at their sudden removal. Suddenly, something warm pressed against his entrance. Draco slowly slid into the Gryffindor, and both boys sighed at the sudden warmth and pressure. He stayed like that a minute, making sure Harry was okay, and then pulled out and pushed roughly in.

"Fuck!" Harry shouted, as the sharp burn was countered by a sudden burst of pleasure so intense it made his toes curl.

A familiar smirk appeared on Draco's face. He continued thrusting in and out, immensely enjoying watching Harry's breath grow ragged as his own pleasure built up inside him.

"Draco… I… ah!"  
***

The two seekers fell asleep curled into each other that night, a way they would spend many more nights in the future.


End file.
